


kl. 21:21

by thekardemomme



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Soulmates, true fucking love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27240541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekardemomme/pseuds/thekardemomme
Summary: it’s october 28th. four years ago today, god and julius caesar were supposed to go to a halloween party.
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Comments: 30
Kudos: 153





	kl. 21:21

**Author's Note:**

> happy four year anniversary of the 21:21 clip. no i am not okay. yes i love and miss them with my whole heart.

**October 28, 2020**

**kl. 21.21**

The entire apartment was dark and quiet when Isak got home that night. It was disappointing, but it wasn’t surprising. Isak took it in stride, just like he always did when it got like this, and made his way into the kitchen to make dinner. He’d eaten it alone, and wrapped the second plate up in case Even got hungry later. 

Now, he was laying in bed, flat on his back on his side of the bed. Even was on his side of the bed, facing away from Isak, curled in on himself. He’s been this way for almost two weeks now, and Isak has only seen him get up to use the bathroom a handful of times. He’s had worse episodes, but he’s had better ones, too. Today seems to be a particularly bad day. 

Isak turns on his side to face Even, and scoots closer to him. Close enough that Even can probably feel his breath, but not too close. He doesn’t touch Even without permission when he’s like this. Sometimes, it’s too much, too overwhelming. And Isak never wants to be the cause of that, not when he’s supposed to be the sanctuary. 

“Can I touch you, Ev?” Isak asks, and Even nods so subtly that he almost misses it. But Isak knows Even better than anybody, so of course he doesn’t. 

He reaches out with the tips of his fingers, and traces all the knobs on Even’s spine. Years ago, when they still lived in Oslo, Isak used to count the freckles and moles on Even’s back. He doesn’t do that much anymore—doesn’t need to, because he’s memorized the location of every single one. He’s pressed his lips to them enough times that he thinks he’ll always remember them, even when they’re old and gray and Isak can’t reach to kiss them without hurting his back. 

Even leans into the touch, just slightly, but Isak feels it. He smiles to himself and scoots even closer, until his front is plastered against Even’s back, and his puffs of breath move the baby hairs on the nape of Even’s neck. He wraps an arm around Even’s middle and holds him tightly, because sometimes Even just wants Isak to hold him until all of his broken pieces meld together, even if it doesn’t work. Tonight seems to be one of those nights. 

It’s a good thing, when Even wants to be held on his bad days. Isak always celebrates it. It means Even is feeling something. And as awful as Even must feel, it’s always better to feel something than nothing. The numbness worries Isak the most. 

Even sighs shakily, and Isak feels one sweaty hand come to cover his. Isak laces their fingers together, and squeezes. “Do you know what today is?” Isak whispers, stroking his thumb over the back of Even’s knuckles. 

Even doesn’t respond, and Isak takes that as his answer. 

“It’s October 28th,” Isak informs him, and he can’t stop the small smile from crossing his face. He presses the smile into Even’s neck. “Four years ago today, at about this time, God and Julius Caesar were supposed to go to a Halloween party. And instead they ditched their girlfriends, broke into some stranger’s pool, and kissed for the first time.”

Back when their relationship first started, they used to celebrate every anniversary. Their first kiss, their first _time,_ their reunion, when they officially got together. But over time, they started just celebrating their official anniversary, as the newness of the relationship faded into security and… _home._

But Isak thinks today is a good day to remind Even of how much he loves him, and what better way than to remind him of how smitten they both were even all those years ago. To remind him of how gone Isak was even before he knew Even liked him back, before he knew Even liked _boys._

For a few moments, Even stays quiet and still. But Isak doesn’t push, because he knows better. He knows Even moves a lot slower when he’s depressed, takes more time to process, and Isak doesn’t mind waiting. He’d wait forever for Even, for anything. No questions asked. 

Eventually, though, Even moves. He lets go of Isak’s hand and then rolls over in Isak’s arms, and presses their foreheads together. His breath stinks, his skin is overly warm and sticky from sweat, and he smells from a lack of showering—but Isak doesn’t mind. Isak has never thought of Even as anything less than the most beautiful, perfect man in the world. 

“I’m sorry I forgot,” Even rasps, and Isak frowns because he _hates_ that the first thing Even has said to him today is an apology. 

Isak smooths his hair back and presses a kiss to his forehead. “Hey, don’t apologize. I wasn’t telling you because I was upset that you forgot, I was telling you because… Because I still love you just as much as I loved you then, if not more.”

Even glances up at him. “You did _not_ love me that early on.”

“You don’t know that,” Isak scoffs. “Maybe I did. You’re very lovable, you know. I think it was love at first sight.” He pauses, then jokes, “Are you telling me that you didn’t love me then?”

“I joined kosegruppa for you,” Even points out. 

Isak doesn’t bother reminding him that he joined kosegruppa for Even. Instead he just smiles and presses more kisses to Even’s forehead, his nose, his cheeks. 

He lets Even initiate the first kiss on the lips, barely more than a peck before Isak moves away. 

“Hold on.”

Isak extracts himself from Even’s grip, rolling out of bed. He strips his shirt and jeans off, and then turns on both lamps and the fairy lights that Even put above the bed—both of them preferred the ambient light that lamps provide rather than the harsh overhead lighting. And it works well for now, for what Isak wants to do. 

Once the lights are on, he climbs back into bed. Even is staring up at him curiously, eyes wide and bloodshot, but still so fond and full of love. Isak still, even after four years, can’t believe that someone like Even looks at him like that. He doesn’t know what he did to be so lucky, what he did to deserve Even. 

Whatever it is, he hopes he keeps doing it. Forever, preferably. 

Isak presses a kiss to Even’s nose and then pulls their blanket over their heads. The blanket is blue, and all of the lighting in the room makes Even _just_ visible underneath it. It’s still a bit dark, but everything has a blue hue to it, from the light passing through the blanket. 

“I know it’s not the same as actually being in a pool,” Isak teases, “but blue lighting is the closest we’re gonna get, I think. Unless we went snorkeling in the bathtub.”

Even stares at him for a moment, and then he actually smiles. Not just the quick pull of the corners of his mouth, not just the brightening of his eyes. An _actual_ smile. It makes Isak smile, and he reaches out to touch Even’s cheek. 

“The past four years have been the best four years of my life,” Isak whispers into the space between them. They’re so close that Isak is almost pressing the words directly to Even’s lips. 

Even leans into the touch, and closes the tiny distance between them so their foreheads and noses are touching again. “Love you,” he murmurs, and his voice is still rough and hoarse from disuse (and probably from crying, when Isak wasn’t here), but it’s still _Even’s_ voice, and Isak loves every fucking thing about Even. 

“I love you so much, baby,” Isak says back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Even’s soft smile. “And I especially love seeing you smile.”

Even hums, “You make me happy.”

“I try,” Isak grins, swiping his thumb over where he’d just kissed, as if to seal it there. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling good today.”

“You’re making it better. You always make it better.”

_God,_ Isak loves him. “Can I kiss you?”

Even scoffs, teasing, “As if you have to ask.” And then he’s leaning in, so Isak closes the distance and seals their lips together properly. 

They’re not underwater, they’re not dressed up, they’re not giddy and high off of the adrenaline of their first kiss. But it’s okay, it’s _better_ even, because this is everything Isak’s ever wanted. All he ever wanted was this: Even, love, kisses, a home. To feel like he belonged somewhere, belonged _with_ someone. And as messy as things were four years ago today, when God and Julius Caesar ran away from their girlfriends and kissed in a stranger’s pool, and as messy as things were for weeks after that… Isak would do it all over again if it meant he got to have this, and keep it forever. 

Keep _Even_ forever. 

“You’re it for me, you know that?” Isak asks, breathless from their little make out. He hopes he hasn’t drained Even of too much energy. “You’re my person. My favorite person. And I’m so fucking happy that you kissed me that day, because I never would’ve gotten the balls to do it.”

Even laughs—and it isn’t really a laugh, it’s more of an exhale, but Isak revels in it. “It’s the best decision I ever made. And also the easiest.” He presses one more kiss to Isak’s lips, and then settles back into the pillow. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. I love you, and I know you’d do the same for me. We take care of each other.”

Even hums in response, clearly getting tired again, so Isak doesn’t push. He pulls their blanket off their heads again, and then moves to get up so he can turn the lights off again. 

But Even catches his wrist before he can, pulling him back down and into a cuddle. “Just stay here with me?” Even asks. 

Isak laughs, parroting Even’s words right back to him, “As if you have to ask.”

Isak settles back down with Even tucked into his chest, head underneath Isak’s chin. Isak presses gentle kisses to Even’s hair, and strokes the knobs on the back of his spine again. He counts every single freckle and mole from memory.

“Can we just stay here forever?” Even asks, a mirror of all those years ago, and it brings tears to Isak’s eyes. 

“Yeah,” Isak whispers. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” Isak returns. Saying it back is as easy as breathing. “Goodnight, baby.”

Even doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t have to. Isak is more than happy to sit here and hold him while he sleeps, would happily do it every single day for the rest of his life. Without any worry of a call from Sonja, or Even disappearing in the morning. 

Because everything is love, and Even is everything. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @wlwharrys or on twitter @starsamidala


End file.
